


In Every Light

by penstrikesmidnight



Series: Daichi Love Fest 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Boarding School, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Tension, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: A box of Valentine chocolate addressed to Tooru is left on Daichi's bed on accident. He never would have guessed how life-altering that simple oversight would become.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Daichi Love Fest 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635169
Comments: 24
Kudos: 78
Collections: Daichi Love Fest





	In Every Light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day two of Daichi Love Fest 2020! I don't have a twitter I post works to, but check out @daichilovefest and thanks for your awesome prompts!
> 
> I'm so happy with how this one turned out, hope you like it too!
> 
> Prompts: **Can't Help Falling In Love/Valentine's Chocolates/First Kiss/ Pragma (enduring)**

**February 1951**

Daichi sees Tooru Oikawa from his window on the second floor of Linden House as he is getting ready to go out for his morning run. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, the frost on the school grounds twinkling hazily in the dawn light. Tooru is walking across the yard, leaving dark footprints in the white crystal ocean, and the sun catches in his brown hair, making it shimmer like a halo. He has his hands in his pockets and his chin tucked into the collar of his long wool coat. Daichi watches until he is lost from sight under the eave of the building. He turns back to putting on his shoes, and while he ties the laces he wonders what Tooru may have been out for this early, if he had had permission to leave, if he had snuck into town, or had been visiting his parents...

Daichi blinks, standing up straight. He has never given Tooru a second thought, and he vaguely wonders if he is tired enough to have dreamed the whole scenario, but the wet patches in the grass made by Tooru’s long stride is enough proof that Daichi was not sleeping. 

Everyone at Briarwood Preparatory Academy knows Tooru Oikawa. Tooru has a way about him when he speaks to you, as if he is your best friend, always on your side, always noticing you when you least expect it. He is inclusive and excitable, and has just the right amount of pettiness in him to bring him back down to the world of men.

The boys moan about the fact that Tooru has a flock of girls that trail after him whenever they go into town, chatter about how stellar his acting is in their semiannual theater productions and how it’s unfair that he so easily dominates their basketball team too. They whisper about how perfectly coifed his hair stays and how flawless his skin looks, but at the end of it all no one can say they really hate Tooru; even the seniors love him.

Daichi Sawamura is popular in his own right. He plays football and baseball, although his first love is volleyball. He has a selection of close friends, but is generally well-liked by everyone he comes in contact with. He is an earnest, dependable boy with a bright future ahead of him, although he isn’t sure what that future entails. He isn't talked about by everyone, and he is fine with that.

Daichi makes his way outside, waving at one of his baseball teammates who looks like he just woke up. The early morning February air nips at the tips of Daichi’s ears as he leaves the shelter of the building. There is no snow on the ground, but it feels like a storm will be rolling in soon. He shakes his hands, jumps up and down a few times to get his circulation going, and starts a slow jog down his usual path. 

He wonders, very briefly, if Tooru will look out the window and see him. He shakes the thought out of his head almost as soon as he has it.

Everybody's business grows around each other at a boarding school as small as Briarwood, but that doesn't mean Daichi would consider Tooru his friend. Friendly, perhaps, a good chap, but no, they don't pal around. They run in completely separate circles, and that is okay. Daichi can admire Tooru from a distance.

His favorite time to see Tooru is before classes start, when they are allowed to play volleyball in the gymnasium. Tooru plays more often than Daichi, probably daily. The boys joke that they should start a competitive league just for Tooru, and Daichi would agree. Tooru always looks radiant there on the court, the sun and the gymnasium lights combining into a spotlight for Tooru to shine in. 

Regardless, he and Tooru have minimal interaction outside of their time playing volleyball in the morning, so Daichi doesn’t know why this day, out of any other, he finds his thoughts focused solely on Tooru Oikawa.

The rest of his run is uneventful. When Daichi returns to Linden House most of the boys are up about their usual morning routines. Daichi greets his friends and avoids the troublesome seniors who are raring to graduate and get on with their lives. He blows into his cupped palms on the way up the stairs to warm his fingers, not looking forward to changing clothes with chilled hands. He opens the door and slips into the room, making a beeline toward his bed. 

He frowns when he spots a heart-shaped box on his pillow. He picks it up, but there is nothing other than a note with pretty handwriting that simply reads _To My Dearest Tooru, From A Secret Admirer_. He turns the box over, but there is nothing else. 

“Koushi, did you see anyone come in here this morning while I was running?" Daichi asks. 

Koushi Sugawara shakes his head as he bends down to put on his shoes. Koushi is Daichi's closest friend and has been since they were foisted upon each other last year as reluctant roommates. He is a cheerful boy with a streak of troublemaker in him that gets Daichi in hot water by association. But it's hard to stay mad at someone as angelic as Koushi, which is probably how he always weasels his way out of punishments. "No, I saw something had been left there, but I didn't get close enough to see what it was. You have a Valentine, Daichi! How romantic!"

Daichi had completely forgotten about Valentine's Day. "I don't have a Valentine; apparently Tooru does." Daichi offers the box for Koushi to examine.

Koushi laughs, standing up fully. "His poor secret admirer picked the wrong floor. He's in the room above ours. I've snuck up there to get cigs before, because Tooru's rich and I have no qualms taking advantage of that.”

"Koushi," Daichi reprimands with no real push behind the words. Koushi shrugs and gestures grandly to their door.

Theoretically, Daichi had known that his room was below Tooru’s, but the information had no real relevance to his life. Not that it did now, but paired with the morning’s musings, he wonders why Tooru keeps popping up like this.

He just has to deliver the chocolate to Tooru, and then everything could go back to normal.

Daichi follows Koushi down the stairs and across campus to the dining hall. The campus is a giant quilt, with four patches of grass surrounded by an edging of buildings and sidewalks. There are copses of trees standing guard outside of the campus, completing the picturesque New England scene. At this time of year the branches are barren and most everything on campus is a shade of gray.

Koushi takes the stairs two at a time up to the dining hall. Daichi trails behind, always less enthusiastic than Koushi, who stops to greet almost everyone they pass. Koushi, like Tooru, is someone people are drawn to.

Daichi is surprised that they beat Tooru to the cafeteria that morning. Usually, Tooru is here holding court from the time the cafeteria opens until volleyball begins. Daichi wonders again where Tooru had come from so early in the morning.

"Your head is in the clouds today," Koushi says, drawing Daichi's attention to him. Koushi raises his eyebrows. "The chocolate's got you that worked up? Don't worry, I'm sure you have your fair share of secret admirers; they're just not as shameless as the girls Tooru attracts."

"Thanks," Daichi says drily. Koushi laughs.

The rest of his morning passes slowly. Daichi doesn't see Tooru until after school, walking down the hallway alone. Daichi knows Tooru is tall, standing at just about 6', but when Daichi sees Tooru's shadow stretching across the floor, crawling up the wall, he can't help but admire the lean, muscular figure Tooru cuts. Daichi couldn't have asked for a more perfect opportunity to catch him.

"Tooru!" Daichi calls loud enough to be heard over the din of slamming doors and hushed conversations.

Tooru turns to Daichi, surprise making an appearance across his face before shuttering behind his usual jolly persona. "Daichi! To what do I owe such a pleasure?"

His eyes drop down to where Daichi holds the chocolate in his outstretched hand, then rise again. A smirk walks across Tooru's mouth. "Ah, Daichi, thank you so much! I'll make sure to cherish them!"

Tooru presses the chocolates to his chest as if they are something precious. Daichi blinks. "It's not...I found them on my bed this morning addressed to you. Someone must have left it by mistake."

Tooru's smile is angelic. Daichi knows that look well enough from Koushi and braces himself for the impact of Tooru's joke. "It is perfectly alright, Daichi, don't be embarrassed! I accept confessions from both my female _and_ my male admirers."

Daichi's face is red, he can feel the heat creeping up his neck, across his cheeks. Tooru's smile crooks slightly. "It's not...I just...Okay. Whatever. Those are yours. See you around?"

Tooru shrugs. He runs his fingers on the edge of the box, his pale skin standing out sharply against the blood red of the cardboard. His brown doe eyes are wide and innocent when he says, "Tomorrow morning, when I crush you in volleyball?"

Daichi feels his smile turn sharp. "In your dreams."

Tooru's gaze shifts to something biting. It sends a shock down Daichi's spine. "Well then, guess I'll see you on the court."

With that, Tooru gives a small wave before turning on his heel and stalking away. His shadow grows longer the further he gets from Daichi. Daichi swallows, blinking a few times to refocus himself in this hallway.

He tells himself that it was nothing, just a strange interaction between two classmates. Koushi would react similarly. Daichi hadn't received anything out of the ordinary.

He tells himself that he isn't disappointed by that.

**April 1951**

"Hey! Sawamura, wait up!"

Daichi turns around, surprised to see Tooru jogging toward him. Since their interaction on Valentine's Day over the misplaced box of chocolate, nothing much has changed between them, except their daily exchanged pleasantries. Daichi still wouldn't consider them friends, but maybe they are getting a little friendlier.

Tooru runs his fingers through his hair when he stops by Daichi, and Daichi admires the contrast of Tooru's pale skin in his chocolate locks. No matter what adults say about Tooru's hair, Daichi personally likes it long like this. "Hey," Tooru says again, his voice slightly out of breath. "Do you want to go catch a flick with me tonight when we're out in town? None of my friends want to go; I drag them every week and they don't want to spend their cash."

The sun has almost reached its zenith, making the day bright and a little warm for early April. Daichi is standing directly toward it, which makes Tooru's face a shadow Daichi has to squint to see.

"Sure," Daichi finds himself answering before he even thinks about what he is actually agreeing to. Tooru smiles. His shoulders relax, and Daichi hadn't noticed before that Tooru had been nervous the whole time.

"Great! I'll meet you outside the theater at 6:30. Sound good?"

"Yes," Daichi says, still waiting for the punchline. Tooru nods, but he doesn't make a move to leave. Daichi stands there quiet for a few more seconds, the silence straining toward awkward. So instead of allowing it to curdle, Daichi says, "Since when do you call me Sawamura?"

"Huh?" Tooru asks, brow furrowing.

"When you called out to me." Daichi inclines his head to where Tooru had been standing when he had yelled to him. "You called me Sawamura. You've never done it before. Should I start calling you Oikawa?"

"No one calls me Oikawa!" Tooru says. His voice dips into disdain, but Daichi can see the pink creeping onto his cheeks. He feels absurdly pleased that he can make Tooru flustered like this. "And _everyone_ calls you Sawamura."

"Not really," Daichi says, although Tooru isn't wrong. Almost all of Daichi's teammates call him by his last name. He doesn't know why he's prodding the issue, but Tooru still isn't leaving, so he decides to needle a little more. "I think you were trying to be slick..."

Tooru's eyes are wide. He looks offended that Daichi had even hinted that he isn't cool and composed. "As if! Like _you_ are the expert..."

Daichi laughs. Tooru's words die off. "I like it better when you call me Daichi."

Tooru's Adam's apple bobs as he tries to compose something smooth to say. "Okay then, _Daichi_ , I'll see you tonight. Don't be late!"

"I wouldn't dare keep the great Tooru Oikawa waiting."

Tooru curls his lip up into a semblance of a snarl before it falls into a small smile. Daichi smirks and waves goodbye.

It doesn't occur to Daichi until later, when he is sitting on his bed trying to study, that the conversation had lasted longer than any other between them. Daichi replays the exchange, memorizing every tic of Tooru's expressions, the way his blush spread across his cheeks like ink dropped on a page. He wonders why Tooru invited him, of all people, to see a movie with him, when he had almost everyone their age at his disposal. What made Daichi special? And why did Daichi decide to say yes, when he hardly ever goes to the cinema?

Daichi presses his fingers to his lips, his textbook forgotten. What if...Daichi found Tooru attractive?

No, he immediately fights back. He stands up, paces a circle in the middle of the room, trying to get rid of this feeling building inside of him. Tooru is interesting, an enigma, something for Daichi to take apart and examine, then put back on a shelf and walk away from. He has no other attachment to Tooru.

The dinner bell rings, startling Daichi out of his racing thoughts. The sharp breeze on Daichi's face brings him back to himself as he walks across campus for dinner, settling his mind. Tooru had gone out of his way to try to be friendly with Daichi. Daichi does not have to panic over something that simple.

He's reluctant to tell Koushi about the new development, though, so he procrastinates until they are returning their dishes after dinner. "Um, Tooru asked me to go to the cinema with him tonight. We didn't have any plans, so I told him I could."

Koushi looks at Daichi out of the side of his eyes. "Oh? Since when have you and Tooru been friends that do things together?"

Daichi shrugs. "Since tonight, apparently."

"Hmm," Koushi says. He waves across the quad to someone. Daichi waits, shifting from foot to foot until Koushi turns his attention back to Daichi. He blows some of his ashy hair out of his eyes. "I guess I approve."

"I don't need your approval to hang out with anyone," Daichi retorts, but the tension that had coiled in his stomach and chest loosens with Koushi's grin. "Are we going to get shakes before I meet Tooru or what?"

***

Daichi beats Tooru to the theater, so he stands outside, leaning against the building. He is slightly nervous, mostly because he doesn't know how to to hold a conversation with him. Daichi will admit to himself that Tooru is slightly intimidating, with all his self-confidence and smooth talking.

Daichi wonders, again, why Tooru would want to hang with him, of all people.

He sees Tooru walking across the street wearing the same long, woolen jacket he had on Valentine's Day morning. It hugs his figure absurdly well, accentuating his narrow waist and broad shoulders. He is still wearing his school shirt, the tie peeking out of the collar. Daichi feels slightly underdressed in his t-shirt and bomber, but Tooru just smiles warmly at him when he's close enough to see.

"Hope you weren't waiting long," Tooru says. Daichi shrugs in response and follows Tooru into the theater.

The ticket seller knows Tooru by name. He smiles at Tooru and asks about school and the production of _Richard III_ , of which Tooru has the lead role. Daichi listens quietly, watching the way Tooru lights up when talking to this man, bashful when he is complimented and earnest when talking about his studies.

"This is Daichi Sawamura," Tooru says when the man asks. "He's on the baseball team. Pretty good, too. Plays third base."

Daichi didn't know Tooru knew what position he played--Daichi doesn't think he could name Tooru's position in basketball, although he knows he's a pretty accurate free-throw shooter. It is strange to think that someone Daichi has hardly interacts with knows information like this about him. He wonders if Tooru has ever come to a game.

The ticket seller lets them go. Daichi once again follows Tooru as he makes his way to their seats. Tooru sighs. He unbuttons his jacket with one hand, shrugging out of it, then sinking into the plush red chair, all without spilling the popcorn in his hands.

"You weren't kidding when you said you're here often," Daichi says, taking off his own jacket before sitting next to Tooru. "Thanks for buying my ticket, by the way. You didn't have to."

Tooru waves his hand in the air. "Don't get used to it, it's so you'll come back with me again. Here, have some popcorn."

Tooru tips the bucket toward Daichi, who takes a handful. There are not a lot of people close to them, although the theater is not empty by any means. Daichi looks at Tooru out of the corner of his eye, still facing the screen. There is no way around the fact that this is awkward. They are in their own seats but close enough that Daichi could just lift his hand and touch Tooru's bare skin on the armrest next to him. Daichi really has nothing to say, because what do you say to someone you've only yelled to across a gymnasium, or exchanged greetings with when you've crossed paths in the hallway?

"I love movies," Tooru says, startling Daichi. Daichi turns fully to look at him, but he is facing the screen, the dim lights flickering on his cheeks, hollowing them. Daichi had almost forgotten his comment about the fact that Tooru seems to know this place well. "You know, the atmosphere and everything, that's great, but the actual _movies_. The films themselves. They're masterpieces."

A small smile plays on Tooru's lips, not quite the perfect curve it usually is. Daichi breathes as quietly as possible, frozen in place. He knows this moment is fragile, a soap bubble that could pop any moment. 

"I'm going to do that, one day."

Daichi blinks. He thinks he may have missed an important comment while he was staring, but Tooru turns to him, his smile widening into crooked excitement. "Be in the movies. Be seen by millions of people across the world."

Daichi can imagine Tooru on a screen like this, his exuberance pouring into the hearts of everyone who sees him. He would be the All-American boy next door, breaking barriers with a graceful flick of his hair. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Tooru shrugs, sinking back into his seat. "My sister's in Hollywood now. It was quite the scandal, my mother in tears and my father vowing to disown her because she went and had a child without getting married, but she's doing alright for herself. I don't know, it's probably just a pipe dream, but it's nice to think about."

"I don't see why you couldn't do it," Daichi blurts out, eager to please, desperate to show Tooru how much he thinks of him. It's mortifying. But Tooru glances over at him with his pretty, expressive brown eyes, and just like that, the tense air has shattered. 

Tooru laughs, and Daichi watches a lopsided smile he is fairly sure he has only seen hints of make its way across his lips. Daichi tears his attention away from that thought quickly-- _not attracted, just friends._

"Good to know someone has confidence in me," Tooru says, slumping down into his seat, his muscles loosening for the first time that night. Daichi exhales, his own body letting go of the tension he had built up all night.

The movie starts before they can speak again. Daichi likes it well enough, but the best thing about the whole experience, he thinks, is watching Tooru's reactions to what is happening on the screen. His brow is furrowed in concentration, as if he will be asked to give a report or take a test on the film the next day, and he doesn't want to miss a single detail. His skin looks silver in the bright lights from the screen, his hair a dark contrast, as if he is already a film star. 

Daichi could look at him forever.

But he forces himself to look away, because chances are Tooru had invited him here as a friend, desperate to find someone, _anyone_ , to indulge him in his obsession.

Daichi tells himself it's a one time thing, as they make small talk on their way back to school, as he tries to ignore the ever-increasing beating of his heart when Tooru laughs at his jokes, when he nudges Daichi with his elbow to prod him on with a story. 

"Thanks, this was fun," Tooru says when they reach the second floor landing, as if they had just gone on a slightly terrible first date.

"Yeah," Daichi says. They stare at each other for a few more seconds before Tooru waves goodbye and takes the stairs two at a time. Daichi sighs, then goes to his room to sulk.

But it was a one time thing, so he has nothing to sulk about, he reminds himself as he gets ready for bed. It is a long, mostly sleepless night.

***

It isn't a one time thing.

They go to the movies three more times, and Daichi only pays once, which he feels weird about but Tooru treats as such a normal thing, he can't complain. Each time they have the same awkward goodbye as the first time, but it becomes less of a question and more like a slight longing for the night to continue.

Tooru talks to him for longer stretches during the school day as well, which feels bizarre, like he is breaking some sort of rule, so it's mostly just Tooru rambling about his day and Daichi staring at him, mute.

On the last day of school, he doesn't see Tooru until he is getting into his mother's car. When their eyes meet, he raises his hand before he can think about the implications, but he doesn't have to stew on it long before Tooru is waving back cheerfully.

"Who is that?" his mother asks, as if she knows any of his schoolmates besides Koushi.

"A new friend," Daichi says, hoping it is true. It's hard to tell with such a new relationship, whether there is enough of a foundation to build on next year, or whether it will crumble with disuse during their long summer months.

And every once in awhile, while helping his father in his mechanic shop, or right before he falls asleep at night, he thinks about the way Tooru looked in the dim lighting of the movie theater, delighted and determined and dazzlingly bright.

**August 1951**

The day before school starts is always long. Freshman year, Daichi spent the whole weekend at school, getting his room ready, deciding whether or not Koushi was a godsend or devil-sent, and determined that the next year, he wouldn’t get there until absolutely necessary. He has one more year of this anxious torture before he is finally free.

By the time dinner rolls around, he has so much pent up restlessness he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He listens to Koushi chatter about his vacation, bemoaning his summer romance that came to a swift and brutal end just two weeks prior while gently teasing Daichi that, at the rate he was going, he’d never find someone he wanted to marry. Daichi pushes the thought of Tooru’s lopsided smile out of his mind and agrees with Koushi, because sometimes it’s easier to give in than argue. 

Koushi is making his way toward their usual table when he stops suddenly, Daichi almost running into his back. “I think...Is that Tooru Oikawa waving at us?”

Daichi scans the room and, sure enough, Tooru has half risen out of his seat, gesturing grandly to the two of them. “Should we go?”

Daichi must make some noise of agreement, because Koushi sets off toward him, Daichi trailing behind. 

Tooru looks mostly the same as he did three months before, but he’s slightly tanner, and more freckles dot his nose and cheeks, a perfect complement to his hair and eyes. Daichi resists the urge to reach out and brush his fingers along them, because that would be creepy. "I'm glad you saw me!" Tooru says cheerfully. "Sit down, sit down!"

“Hi, Tooru,” Koushi says, all pleasant smiles, but Daichi pauses to digest his tone, sweet with an undercurrent of danger. “Expanding your empire?”

“You wound me, Koushi, I’m already friends with Daichi. After all, he gave me chocolates on Valentine’s Day.” Tooru turns to Daichi, cocking his eyebrows in challenge. Daichi has to remind himself of the conversation because he gets lost in Tooru's eyes.

“I didn’t...” Daichi finally protests weakly, but when he looks to Koushi for backup he realizes that Tooru had picked the one topic that Koushi would be in on—teasing Daichi. Before either of them can say anything he says, “You know what? Never mind.”

Tooru offers a benevolent smile which emanates smugness. “Now that that is settled, tell me about your summer.”

After dinner, Koushi drops onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. “This is going to be an exhaustive year. Why did you become friends with Tooru, of all people?”

Koushi isn’t upset, Daichi can tell, but he still feels guilty. “We don’t have to...” he starts, reluctant, because of course he would like to hang with Tooru. His previous restlessness has been tempered by Tooru's invitation to join him today. He realizes that maybe, besides his cabin fever, the uncertainty lingering around Tooru may have played a part.

"Oh please, you look like I asked you to kick a puppy. We can transfer tables if you want. But I'm not going to like him."

Daichi rolls his eyes, but his heart is beating frantically, as if Koushi had given him permission to do something dangerous. He cannot get the image out of his head of Tooru's welcoming expression, the genuine smile he had worn when they sat down at the table with him.

"I mean," Koushi says into the dark about twenty minutes later, "free cigarettes and girls galore if nothing else, right?"

Daichi rolls over in his bed with a groan.

**January 1952**

Through autumn and winter, Tooru integrates himself into Daichi's day with ease, as if he has always been there, waiting to take his role by his side. They still lead separate lives--Tooru is busy with basketball season, Daichi's football season had just ended--but with the addition of meals and some quick conversations before lights out, his day seems embedded with Tooru, and he couldn't be happier.

At the beginning of the year, Daichi seriously starts to contemplate what this is, this strange fascination he has with Tooru Oikawa. He has sat with the fact that he is attracted to Tooru long enough that he doesn't startle away from it at the slightest thought. In fact, he mouths the words to himself one morning in the shower after a particularly intense game of volleyball, Tooru's eyes gleaming dangerously at him across the net. When Tooru comes to congratulate him on his win, his hand clasping on Daichi's shoulder, Daichi knows.

Koushi has been suspiciously mum about the whole thing, making himself scarce with other friends while Daichi starts spending more time with Tooru. Daichi comes up with answers to hypothetical questions Koushi may ask, but nothing prepares him for the moment it actually comes, three weeks back from winter break as they're getting ready to sleep.

"Daichi, I have a question for you."

Koushi's voice is serious enough that Daichi looks up from where he is putting his toothbrush away. He goes to his bed, sits down, and tries to push down the panic welling in his stomach. He has been a terrible friend. He needs to show Koushi he appreciates him, needs to plan something for them to do together...

"Are you...attracted, to Tooru?"

Daichi blinks. Even though he had anticipated a serious question, for some reason this hadn't been it. All of his carefully constructed answers flee his mind. He swallows, but there is a lump that has formed in his throat that he can't seem to get rid of.

"I...don't...know," is what finally comes out, and before he digs himself into a deeper hole he stops talking, leaves it in his rawest, realest words. He braces himself for the derogatory response, for Koushi to rescind all his friendship and kindness. He wonders if he'll be cruel enough to spread it around campus...

"Hey, sorry I freaked you out but, really, it's okay. Daichi, listen to me!"

Daichi snaps out of his spiraling thoughts to see Koushi's face hovering over his. "It's okay," he repeats, sitting down on the bed next to Daichi with a sigh. Daichi quickly looks away from him. "Sometimes, I like boys too. If it makes you feel any better, I think Tooru likes you back."

Daichi knows his cheeks are red. He keeps his head bowed, staring at the dark wood floor beneath him. He has barely considered liking Tooru, much less the bigger implications that stem from that attraction. For the first time he takes the full idea, examines it from all sides like a rare flower. Tooru is, objectively, good looking. Everyone would say so. Daichi also likes the way Koushi looks, with his silvery hair, his heart shaped face, and his smile that causes his eyes to crinkle from the width of it.

He looks back, to all the people he has liked, and he thinks that maybe he does find more men than women attractive.

"I..." Daichi says, but he does not know how to finish the thought. So instead he just says, "Thanks, Koushi. You don't know how much this means to me."

Koushi gives a small smile and nudges his shoulder. "We're friends, right? Sometimes, it's hard to admit truths about ourselves, but I want to be the kind of friend someone can rely on. It's why I haven't been _too_ whiny when you pick Tooru over me."

"Sorry," Daichi mutters, wincing when Koushi laughs.

"Crushes are hard to navigate, so I will gladly let you figure that out by yourself. But hey, listen. Tooru's beautiful, but he's really just a bomb raring to explode. He wants everyone's attention, and can't see that he already has it. He has everything at his fingertips but no direction to take himself in. He's gonna break your heart one day, and when that day comes I'm gonna kill him, because that's the kind of friend I am."

Daichi isn't sure if he's supposed to, but he bursts out laughing. What Koushi said about Tooru wasn't wrong; they were all concerns that Daichi had mulled over before. But still, with Koushi's approval (again), the strange, dark tension that had built quietly inside Daichi for the past few months seems to dissipate.

"Now, I'm tired, and we have to get up bright and early to crush Tooru in volleyball again. Whatever streak we're on, we need to keep it up!"

**February 1952**

Through everything, Daichi and Tooru still go to the movies every other weekend. That is where Daichi feels he learns the most about Tooru, in the dim glow outside as they smoke before going into the theater, or sitting in their seats, Daichi watching Tooru's expression melt from his normal, happy mask to something more genuine and enthusiastic. It is sad to Daichi that he is one of a very privileged few who get to see Tooru look like this, real and unguarded, a teenager with a love of something and a drive to get where he wants to go. Tooru never mentions going to Hollywood again, but Daichi can see the love for film Tooru still has in every inch of his body when they are at the theater.

So really, this couldn't have led anywhere else. Tooru leans over to whisper in Daichi's ear, something about the lead, how amazing he is in everything he has seen. They are so close, their arms brushing, and, very deliberately, Daichi turns his hand over, grasping lightly onto Tooru's wrist. His voice falters, and the screen lights up just long enough for Daichi to see the surprise that has widened his eyes. Before Daichi can take his hand away in embarrassment, Tooru has shifted his arm so that it is now lined up with Daichi's. He presses his fingers in the spaces between Daichi's, hesitant. Daichi locks them in place.

They sit in that dark, safe space for the next hour. Daichi's hand goes numb, but he doesn't want to move, doesn't want to lose this connection between the two of them. It is a milestone in their unspoken relationship.

Afterward, they don't talk about it. Daichi notices that Tooru walks closer to him on the way back, their fingers brushing every once in awhile, setting sparks off in Daichi's stomach. He doesn't think he will ever get used to the idea that Tooru would allow these light, brief touches between them. He feels content and restless at the same time, and he wonders why.

"Hey," Daichi says, when Tooru turns to say goodbye to him on the second story landing. Tooru's eyes are wide with curiosity, and he dips his face closer to Daichi, close enough for Daichi to see Tooru's freckles, barely there with the lack of sunlight from the winter. Daichi's eyes trace the slope of Tooru's nose, the shadows that play across his forehead from his bangs. "I..."

Daichi wants to tell him he is the most handsome person Daichi has ever met, that he is glad for the mishap with the Valentine chocolate box the year previous to give him the excuse to befriend him. To become something more with him.

But they haven't ever voiced their feelings to one another, and Daichi wonders if maybe, somehow, his imagination had just constructed the feeling of Tooru's calloused palm on his own.

"Thanks. For tonight."

Daichi winces when he processes the answer that he had come up with. He almost continues, almost apologizes, because those words don't do Tooru justice, but Tooru smiles at Daichi shyly, as if he knows what Daichi had been too afraid to say.

"You see me in ways I never thought I could be seen," Tooru says, "so maybe I should thank you."

Daichi bites his lip, looks away from Tooru's earnest expression. Tooru is a light he can't help but be attracted to, regardless of whether or not he will break his heart, like Koushi predicts. Tooru brushes his fingers lightly over the back of Daichi's hand.

"Goodnight," he whispers.

"See you tomorrow."

It takes Daichi a long time to get to sleep that night, and he is grateful that Koushi is already asleep. He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, thinking about all the developments that had happened. He is excited for the idea that his and Tooru's relationship is evolving to more than friendship, more than just an infatuation. He decides, as a joke, to get Tooru a box of chocolate for Valentine's Day. Maybe he can ask Tooru in writing what he couldn't ask in person; if Tooru has the same longing for Daichi that Daichi has for Tooru. 

When he finally settles enough for sleep, his mind is consumed with the yearning idea of _more, more, more._

**April 1952**

To Daichi, it feels like he and Tooru have been friends forever. He hardly remembers a time before Tooru's cheerful greetings, his gentle teasing, his intense concentration when playing any sport or during any test.

Tooru begins finding excuses for the two of them to go off alone together away from town. He joins Daichi on his morning runs, asks him to hit some of his volleyball tosses. After dinner he moans that he needs help with an essay, or how he needs Daichi to explain a physics problem to him (even though Tooru is better at physics than Daichi). Sometimes there is actually homework done, but most of the time they sit behind Linden House, smoking and talking about nothing.

On an early April evening, on one of the rare occasions they are actually working on math homework outside, Tooru asks questions about Daichi's home, a topic they have not breached yet. Usually, Daichi stays away from personal questions, as if the knowledge of someone's life outside of school would make Daichi feel a responsibility for that person he didn't want. Daichi knows that he and Tooru are from vastly different backgrounds, that to ask questions like this was to define a line that may or may not be easy to cross.

"My family," Tooru says with a sigh, after Daichi has uncomfortably skirted around being the only child to a pleasantly normal stay-at-home mother and a father who owns a humble mechanic shop in a small Virginia town, before pushing the issue back to Tooru. "Let's see. I have one sister, who I told you about, and an adorable nephew who I don't get to see much outside of summer vacation, because they live in California. My mother was a debutante who turned her nose up at her family by marrying a Japanese businessman. She does a lot for the community. My father works a lot. It's like I live this perfect life but no one sees me without seeing my family, or my money, or my perfect student track record."

Tooru shrugs, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. Tooru sounds dismissive, but Daichi senses the loneliness in his voice, in the slight stoop of his shoulders. The sun is beginning to dip down behind the trees, and the air is growing cooler. The orange glow makes Tooru seem ethereal, as if he is a spirit sitting next to Daichi, intangible, unreachable, the smoke a halo around his head. 

Daichi swallows. Maybe it's the hazy twilight that makes Daichi feel comfortable sharing his innermost thoughts, but he says, "My family is a military family."

Tooru nudges him. "No offense, but I can tell, just a little."

Daichi rolls his eyes. "I guess I've always thought it was my duty to go serve, like my father and my uncles, but maybe I don't want to. Maybe I just want to keep working with cars. Or maybe I'll go to college."

It is an offering, to see whether Tooru will dive into this scary, unknowable future with him, or whether he will change the topic to something lighter.

"You know," Tooru says, offering Daichi a second cigarette. Daichi shakes his head no. Tooru shrugs and lights it anyway. "You have a whole life to live outside of this school. So do I. We don't have to know what we want to do right now. Hell, we don't have to know what we want to do in five years. That's what college is for. But you should make that decision. Not your parents. Not your family name. Not society. Easier said than done, right? But still. Just a thought."

When Tooru turns to look at Daichi, their noses almost brush. Daichi thinks about pulling away, putting a safe distance between the two of them, who have barely started holding hands in secret. But instead, his eyes linger on Tooru's slightly parted lips. They are a perfect bow, slightly chapped from Tooru's habit of sticking his tongue out when he concentrates, and Daichi doesn't know of anything else he wants more than to press his own lips against them.

The moment hangs frozen as they regard each other. "I see you," Daichi says when it becomes evident that this isn't the time for kissing. He eases himself away slowly, turning to face forward instead of toward Tooru.

Tooru lets out a breathy laugh. "That's what makes this so terrifying. What did you get on question three?"

It's not until later that Daichi realizes that, while Tooru had given him great advice, he hadn't indulged any of his own future plans.

***

The school year is almost over. Daichi has had to push the idea out of his mind a lot, but as April draws to a close, he can't anymore.

He decides to talk to Tooru, finally sit down and discuss this _thing_ between them. After their biweekly movie, when Tooru is relaxed and excited and completely himself.

When the movie ends, Daichi decides he will ease gently into the conversation. Before he can say anything, Tooru turns to him.

"You know," Tooru says as he and Daichi walk out the door. Daichi follows Tooru as he slips down the alley behind the movie theater. "It's been a year. Since the first time I asked you to come out with me."

Tooru leans back against the brick building. His eyes meet Daichi's for just the briefest second before roaming around the rest of his face, finally landing on his lips. Daichi licks them, watches Tooru's sharp eyes track the movement of his tongue. Something has shifted since the day Tooru had opened up about his family life, after they had almost, almost kissed.

Daichi thinks about that moment a lot and, apparently, so does Tooru.

Daichi steps closer to Tooru, close enough to reach up and rest a hand on his neck. Tooru shivers under Daichi's touch. Daichi knows they should talk, but instead, he stays quiet. He hopes his actions make up for his lack of words. "You aren't going to chicken out again, are you?"

Daichi knows he's blushing, but he refuses to acknowledge it. He shakes his head, wraps his hand on the back of Tooru's neck, and pulls him down just a bit, so their lips brush. Daichi pulls away just seconds later, studying Tooru's face. His lips twitch, as if he is trying to smile, trying to cover up the fear, but Daichi feels tremors under his hand.

Daichi had never considered the fact that Tooru may be more nervous than him about the feelings blooming between them, since he was always the one flirting, initiating time together. It is strange that in this moment, Daichi feels so calm. Everything that Tooru and Daichi have done together have led up to this moment, and Daichi cannot see another way this would end.

"Hey, Tooru," Daichi says softly. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Tooru whispers with a breathless chuckle. "I just...I've wanted it for so long, and here I am, shaking like a newborn colt."

Daichi laughs. "Sorry my presence is overwhelming for you..."

Tooru rolls his eyes and presses their lips together again, this time the self-assured Tooru Daichi has gotten to know over the past year. His lips taste like salt and butter from the popcorn they had just eaten, and Daichi loves it. He thinks, whatever happens between the two of them, he'll always associate Tooru with the movies. 

When they pull away for good, Daichi takes in Tooru's radiant expression, the way the light reflects off his eyes, making them sparkle. Daichi moves a piece of Tooru's hair back into place. They need to start heading back or run the risk of being reprimanded, but Daichi doesn't want to leave this place they had started building, just him and Tooru in their own small world.

**July 1952**

They don't kiss again before school ends. This time, though, Daichi and Tooru are together when Tooru's parents pull up.

"Three months isn't that long," Tooru says, trying valiantly to smile, but all he musters is a quirk of his lips.

"It'll go by in a flash," Daichi reassures him. Tooru nods. Daichi allows his fingers to brush against Tooru's, an accident as he pretends to help Tooru with his luggage. That earns him a lopsided quirk of Tooru's lips.

Neither one of them mention that this time next year, they will be heading their separate ways with no set date for a reunion, since they will have graduated.

Daichi waves to Tooru's car, and his mother waves back. Daichi can see where Tooru's elegant beauty comes from. He sees her crane her neck back to ask Tooru a question, probably about Daichi. Daichi wonders what Tooru will say about him, if he will admit that he is a friend, or just that they are acquaintances who sometimes play volleyball together.

His summer plods along relatively normal. He takes his work in his father's shop more serious than before. "You have a natural talent, son," his father says one night after a particularly tricky job. They both admire the Chevy purring beautifully in the garage. Daichi's father cuts the engine, and they walk back into the house together.

Daichi thinks maybe, just maybe he wants to work on cars for the foreseeable future.

 _But serving your country,_ a voice whispers in the back of his head. Daichi frowns. Every time he feels like he is making headway in a decision, something is always pulling him back. Maybe he will live in limbo for the rest of his life, going nowhere and gaining nothing.

***

It is always about midsummer when Daichi gets bored enough to start his summer homework, so one day in late July, he is pouring over a literature essay when his mother walks into the room.

"Daichi, the telephone is for you."

Daichi glances up from his book. She must see the confusion on his face because she shrugs. "It's not Koushi. He said he was a friend from school, though."

Instantly, Daichi's heart begins racing. He takes care to place his book down on the coffee table slowly, walk normally to the kitchen. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but who else would be calling him other than Tooru?

He thinks about their kiss behind the movie theater, rushed and burning. He thinks about Tooru's warm hand in his, his hip firm under Daichi's touch.

He remembers Tooru's face in the dim lights that reached them from the street, his eyes shimmering, red smudges on his cheekbones. He looked so ethereal it's almost painful for Daichi to think about again.

"Hello?" Daichi says, his voice cracking in the middle.

Tooru's laugh rings out. "Hi, Daichi! Why didn't we just exchange numbers before we left? I went through a lot of digging to find you, you know."

"Means you must have something really important to say to me," Daichi says, his voice low so it doesn't cary to the other room, where he knows his mother is probably hovering.

Daichi cannot see Tooru, but he feels the tension that thrums in the air between them. Not a repulsive tension, but the tension of a shared string pulling taut, trying to reel the two of them together. "Mmm, not really, but I feel like everything we say is important to each other, wouldn't you agree?"

Tooru's voice has dipped down too, and heat creeps across Daichi's body. He has to swallow a few times before his voice works. "Yes," he admits.

Tooru is silent for a few minutes. It is a comfortable silence, reminiscent of the times they sat side by side in the library, or behind Linden House working on homework. Daichi closes his eyes, imagining Tooru there, in the same room as him.

"I just got back from visiting my sister in California," Tooru says, his voice hesitant. But when Daichi makes a noise to indicate to Tooru that he can continue, he becomes more bold. "Takeru is growing so big! Did you know that his school has a competitive volleyball team? It's so not fair, but I showed him some of my tricks. He is going to do amazing. Oh, and we went to the beach so many times! I know you live next to the beach, but it is a novelty for me..."

Daichi smiles. Tooru's lilting voice is soothing, a balm over Daichi's worries. Daichi thinks that wherever Tooru is, maybe he can find a life there.

**August 1952**

Senior year. The last year before Daichi has to go out and make something of himself with the education he has been given. The day before classes start he feels that same restless, like he should be planning for more than his normal routines, more than writing essays and sweating over his Latin conjugates and worrying about whether or not their football team is going to have a winning season this year. 

The only thing that settles him is Tooru.

Daichi sees him striding across campus from his bedroom window, almost the same way he did that fateful Valentine's Day, only this time Tooru has a small gathering around him. It's a hot August day, but that hasn't stopped Tooru from donning his lettermen jacket, and the sight of it makes Daichi's throat dry. Tooru looks like he stepped right out of a catalogue, with his pressed, wrinkle-free clothing, his perfectly styled but slightly wind-blown hair, and his cheeks rose-tinted from the sun.

Daichi shakes his head after he has noticed almost a solid minute has gone by of just staring. He thinks about going out and saying hello, but they had already agreed to meet at dinner, so he forces himself to stay and unpack. He cannot get the sight of Tooru in his jacket out of his head. It probably isn't the jacket at all, Daichi muses, thinking back to the more angular precision of Tooru's cheekbones, his slightly fuller shoulders, as if he had grown just that much more into his body over the summer.

Daichi is glad Koushi isn't here yet to make fun of him. 

Dinner takes an eternity to arrive, and when it finally does, Daichi is nervous all over again, like this is his first date with Tooru. He doesn't like these long breaks away from school, because no matter how many times they had spoken to each other over the telephone, it was not the same as actually interacting with someone face to face. Daichi would admit to himself, now, that he likes the way Tooru looks, and that he likes to see the expressions Tooru makes because they're so vivid.

Tooru has beaten him to the dining hall, of course. Daichi's almost stumbles when he looks around and accidentally locks eyes with Tooru. It feels like forever as Daichi waits for Tooru to beckon him over, but he is sure it takes barely a second for Tooru to grin and motion with his hand to the empty seat at his right side.

Daichi gathers himself together on the walk over, so when he settles himself in his place he feels mostly normal.

"Daichi! How was your summer? You're so tan! Did you work outside a lot, then? Your pops is a mechanic, yeah?"

Daichi forces himself still as Tooru's hand squeezes his thigh for just the briefest moment, a sign that everything is okay, that this, whatever _this_ was, between them, was still alive.

Daichi loosens up for the first time in months and tells Tooru about his summer. Tooru interjects in all the right places, never neglecting the other boys who have gathered at their table. Daichi admires Tooru as he holds the table's attention so effortlessly, his ability to guide a conversation the way he wants it to go almost an art form. He has such a talent with people.

Once again, Daichi wonders what he had done to garner the attention of someone like Tooru Oikawa. 

Afterward, as Daichi is about to head off to bed, Tooru catches his arm.

"Come here," he whispers, slipping down the hall and out of a back door that leads into a small copse of trees behind Linden House.

When they are far enough away from the house to not be seen, Tooru stops. The moon is full, casting Tooru's face in a dreamy wash of silver. Hesitantly, Tooru opens his arms in a gesture that could be a question, or a hug. Daichi takes it as the latter, and steps close enough to wrap his arms around Tooru's waist. Tooru sighs, his breath leaving a warm track across Daichi's cheek, tickling his ear. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Daichi says, tilting his head just enough so he could kiss Tooru properly. He feels Tooru's lips turn up into a smile before he breaks away. He bumps his nose against Daichi's before initiating another kiss.

"You look good in this jacket," Daichi says, voice slightly breathless after endless minutes of kissing.

"Do you think so?" Tooru asks, glancing down at it as if just recognizing it. Daichi realizes that he knows he looks good, and that he probably wore it because he knew it would draw Daichi's attention.

"Quit your preening, you know you do," Daichi says without malice.

Tooru chuckles softly, a low, throaty sound that makes Daichi's heart race, his stomach clench, and his mind go fuzzy. "I thought about kissing you all summer, you know. I almost took the family car and drove to Virginia, just to see you."

Daichi doesn't know how to respond to Tooru's admission, so he just kisses him again. It is nice, to hear Tooru acknowledge what they are doing. Sometimes Tooru seems so unreachable, Daichi wonders if it is all a game, a way for Tooru to pass the time until something greater comes along.

When they sneak back up to their rooms after lights out, Tooru's hair is a little disheveled, but all in all it is a great way to start their senior year.

**October 1952**

It becomes a thing. They sneak out at least once a week to smoke and kiss. Just like the rest of their relationship, they take their time exploring each other. Daichi remembers the first time he felt Tooru's warm fingers trail over the bare skin of his stomach, how he had jerked himself away with an embarrassingly loud gasp.

Tooru had frozen, studied Daichi's expression, and when Daichi had settled down, pressed his hand down firmly underneath Daichi's shirt. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Daichi had said, his voice slightly strangled.

The exploration continues, albeit slowly. Every time Daichi tries something new, he feels an intense need to catalogue every part of Tooru's expression, which takes multiple tries. He loves the way his long eyelashes look when they flutter closed as Daichi kisses that sensitive place on Tooru's neck, cannot get enough of the way his lips draw down in a look similar to concentration when Daichi traces his fingers up Tooru's ribs. He discovers the ways Tooru likes to be kissed and teaches Tooru how he likes his kisses reciprocated.

It's a beautiful dance, teetering on the ledge of something they can never turn back from.

The day comes one Saturday in early October. It is getting cold, so Tooru is back to strutting around in the letterman jacket that Daichi now just associates with their first kiss back at school. Sometimes, he thinks Tooru wears it just to make Daichi hot.

That Saturday, the football team has a bye and Tooru is free from whatever numerous obligations he tends to have on Saturday afternoons. He catches Daichi as he is making his way up the stairs to their room. "Hey. You wanna hang out? Just the two of us? I know a place where we won't be...interrupted. See, I inherited the key to the attic room, and I thought maybe I could show you."

Daichi had noticed the way Tooru's eyes had shifted, assessing the people in the room, where they stood in relation to the two of them. The house is relatively empty, most of the boys either with their parents or out in town or at various practices. The chance of the two of them getting caught together is relatively low.

Daichi nods, not sure if he can say anything coherent. He's trying to stop his brain from imagining what Tooru meant when he said they wouldn't be interrupted. Tooru gives Daichi a lopsided smile, then gestures for Daichi to follow him.

They climb their usual three flights of stairs, but then Tooru leads him down a hallway to where a permanently open door sits, a rickety stairway leading up to a small landing with a locked door. Somewhere in the hallway, Tooru had tangled their fingers together, and Daichi rubs his thumb over the back of Tooru's hand absentmindedly, heat curling in his stomach.

Daichi watches Tooru’s back as he leads him up the small staircase he had always wondered about but never enough to question. He loosens his fingers to make climbing the stairs easier, but Tooru’s just tighten ever so slightly to keep them entwined. There was no hesitation in the movement, an invitation offered for Daichi to take or leave. Daichi keeps his fingers in place.

Tooru slots a key into the lock, and Daichi hears a low _chink_ , then the rattle of a heavy doorknob. Daichi’s chest is tight, as if he can’t get enough air into his lungs, and Tooru’s body heat seems to wrap around his hand, curl up his arm and burrow beneath his skin as they stand close together on the landing.

Tooru finally releases Daichi’s hand as they enter the room. Daichi turns to shut the door, locking it as an afterthought. The click sends another jolt through his body because now there is a reality to what could happen here, in this room, just the two of them. 

He turns around to see Tooru haloed in the setting sun. He stands with his back to an opened window, his varsity jacket cutting crisp lines across his shoulders, tapering perfectly at his wrists, leaving his long, pale hands exposed. The tips of his hair are gilded, stray curls standing out softly against the backdrop of the window, rustling in the slight breeze. Daichi has never wanted to capture a moment as much as he does now in this small, dusty attic room. 

Tooru turns his head, casting half of his face in shadow, the other half in light. His lips quirk. "We have an hour before we should get ready for dinner, Daichi. What do you think we can accomplish with no hiding and no interruptions?"

Daichi swallows. Tooru's voice sounds low in the echoey lofts of the roof. Daichi feels his yearning yawn wider, voracious.

He takes slow, measured steps toward Tooru. Tooru stands still, his eyes bright with challenge, anticipation, the same hunger Daichi feels slowly uncurling in his stomach. When they stand face to face, Daichi raises a hand, places it on Tooru's chest. Tooru's lips pull farther up, into a crooked smile Daichi only ever sees when Tooru is taken by surprise. He likes this soft, imperfect expression better than the beautiful, contrived joy Tooru always projects.

The buttons of Tooru's varsity jacket snap under Daichi's careful touch _thck, thck, thck, thck_ , each release building tension in Tooru's body. Daichi's stomach churns with anticipation as Tooru shrugs out of the jacket. His shirt is untucked, something Tooru is reprimanded for often but never fixes. The first two buttons are already undone, and pale skin peeks out from beneath his jugular. Daichi presses two fingers to the exposed area, feels Tooru swallow.

"You are so beautiful," Daichi says reverently. 

“You aren’t bad looking yourself,” Tooru murmurs and dips his head down so he and Daichi are nose to nose, breath hot and wet between them. Daichi bridges the gap between their lips, capturing Tooru's bottom one between his own. Tooru hums, the skin of his throat shivering under Daichi's fingers. Daichi remembers what he had started before Tooru had so deliciously distracted him, and drops his fingers down, flicking each button of Tooru's shirt open until the pale canvas of Tooru's chest and abdomen is exposed.

Daichi looks back up at Tooru, who cocks his eyebrow. "Is this...all right?" Daichi asks, realizing the question is a little late now that Tooru's top half is exposed. His eyes catch on Tooru's collarbones, and he thinks maybe they should have started this exploration of each other a long time ago. There are so many parts of Tooru he wants to see, not just blindly feel.

"You think I brought you up here to sit and stare at each other?" Tooru snorts, leans back against the wall. "Although, your stare is particularly aggressive. Feels like a touch itself."

Daichi sees Tooru's persona slipping back into place, so he stops his speaking with a kiss, longer this time. When Daichi releases him, Tooru's breathing is just slightly accelerated. Daichi does not stop, though, because there is a map of skin he wants to navigate right under his touch.

He begins with the column of Tooru's neck, long and strong, then slopes down to Tooru’s shoulder, across his clavicle, tracing them with his fingers, and then his lips. His thumbs rub circles on Tooru's hipbones, then the rest of his fingers splay themselves across Tooru's back.

"Daichi," Tooru gasps.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are," Daichi says against the skin of his lover, because that is what is happening. They are becoming lovers.

Daichi drops to his knees as if in supplication. He feels a deep sense of urgency, that Tooru needs to witness exactly what Daichi sees in him, that he needs to feel just how much Daichi is willing to do for him.

Daichi plays his fingers across Tooru's skin, a hymn to his beauty. The muscles in Tooru's stomach flutter under the light touch. Daichi kisses the places his fingers had just tread as his hands find the button on Tooru's trousers. He hears Tooru gasp.

"This is all right?" Daichi asks, confident now.

"Yes," Tooru breathes, just a suggestion of the word reaching Daichi. Daichi feels Tooru's fingers weave into his hair, massage his scalp. Daichi looks up at Tooru and smiles. For once, Tooru looks nervous, out of control.

"I want to make you feel like I would do anything for you, so just relax," Daichi says seriously, feels Tooru's muscles contract at the words. Daichi kisses Tooru's hipbone as he exposes it to the air. He feels gooseflesh appear under his touch, from the weather or from the intimacy he is not sure. "You don't have to do anything other than enjoy this."

And then, finally, Daichi unveils Tooru's length. Tooru's hands grip Daichi's shoulders tight, his whole body coiled like a watch spring, an expression akin to fear staring down at Daichi. Daichi strokes the skin at Tooru's hip, then down the V of his pelvis, slowly easing Tooru into security.

"I've got you, baby," Daichi says, watching the frightened vulnerability transform into unguarded excitement. "Watch me take care of you."

Daichi cannot say he enjoys every aspect of what happens afterward, but seeing Tooru shivering in pleasure, watching as he unravels that building tension, listening to his small, mewling sounds of happiness, is immensely pleasing. Daichi makes sure to catch all of Tooru's orgasm in his handkerchief, wrinkling his nose as he folds it so nothing will spill. When that task is accomplished, Daichi presses his back against the wall, still extremely aroused, still trying to catch his breath. He and Tooru's harsh breathing is the only sound in the room.

"Do you bring people up here often?" Daichi asks when he thinks Tooru might be up for a coherent conversation. Tooru has pulled his trousers back up but has left his shirt unbuttoned, and slid down to sit next to Daichi, his head lolling onto Daichi's shoulder. Daichi moves Tooru so he is between Daichi's legs, curled like a cat against his chest. Tooru's hair tickles Daichi's chin, his neck. Swallowing, Daichi reaches out, pressing his fingers to Tooru's collarbone as if he's playing a new, expensive piano. He allows his fingers to glide over the skin there, running under his collar before reappearing. Tooru shivers. For some reason, that moment feels more intimate than anything Daichi had just done to Tooru moments before.

"Sometimes the boys and I come up here to smoke," Tooru's voice jolts Daichi back to this place, back to what they had just done--what _he_ had just done to Tooru. "I've kissed a few girls up here. Got handsy with one, but that was a long time ago when I still had to beg the key off the seniors. Never...done that. You have a nice mouth, Daichi."

Daichi feels the compliment go straight to his cheeks, then lower. He clears his throat, moving his hand to Tooru's hair, wrapping the other around his shoulders. He breathes in the waxy vanilla scent of Tooru's pomade. "I think...I think I would like to do this again. For a long time."

Tooru hums sleepily, his fingers tightening in Daichi's shirt. "Maybe I should pay you back a little bit first, how's that sound?"

Daichi would say that sounds great, but he doesn't want to seem too excited. Regardless, Tooru's grip loosens on his shirt, traveling down to unbutton Daichi's pants. "Are you so eager for my touch, Daichi?"

"At least as eager as you were for mine," Daichi whispers, because his voice is unsteady, as ready to break as the rest of his body.

Those long, beautiful fingers slip into his trousers, into his underwear. Tooru's lips find Daichi's, and it is an embarrassingly short time until Daichi has satisfied himself in Tooru's touch. Tooru cleans them both up with a handkerchief, not unsimilar to the way Daichi had previously.

"I think now's a good time for a smoke," Daichi says after a long moment of silence, and Tooru throws his head back to laugh. The light has dimmed, Tooru's face a wash of shadows as they sit under the window, hidden from the sunset. Daichi is surprised and a little overwhelmed to realize that there are so many ways for him to experience Tooru that he has never thought of.

He wonders how much time they will have to explore like this.

Tooru reaches lazily across Daichi into the pocket of his varsity jacket, bringing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Daichi takes the proffered cigarette, sucks a drag, and breathes the smoke out toward the open window. He offers the cig to Tooru, who adjusts Daichi’s hand and takes his own inhale without actually holding the thing. They share it back and forth like that until Tooru takes it and snuffs it out, then they listen as the fifteen minute dinner bell tolls out across campus.

“We should go,” Daichi says, making no move to actually leave.

“You’re so warm,” Tooru mumbles, pressing his nose into Daichi’s neck. For as tall as Tooru is, he fits into the empty spots around Daichi perfectly, a calf slotted in the bend of Daichi's knee, a cheek resting in the curve where Daichi's neck meets his shoulder, his back in the space between Daichi's stomach and thigh. Daichi huffs something akin to a laugh, ruffling the hair on the back of Tooru’s neck. The smell of smoke lingers on Tooru’s shirt, mixing with his cologne. 

“It tickles,” Tooru murmurs with a short laugh, butting his head into Daichi’s shoulder before untangling their limbs. He sits up on his knees and begins to put himself back together. “Let’s not be late to dinner, then. We’ll meet again, yeah?”

Tooru sounds blasé, but Daichi sees the underlying uncertainty swimming in his deep brown eyes as he glances up from buttoning his shirt. It is nice to know Daichi isn’t the only one nervous about their tenuous relationship. 

“Yeah, of course,” Daichi answers. Tooru nods, the tension easing from his face as he stands, grabs his jacket, slips it on, and buttons his usual bottom four buttons. Daichi joins him, smoothing his hands over his pants and shirt to make sure everything is in place, then pulls Tooru down for another kiss. Tooru looks surprised when Daichi breaks away, and Daichi feels abnormally pleased with himself for putting that expression on his face. “We’ve been kissing for years. I’m surprised it took us this long to get here.”

Tooru blinks, and the smile he gives Daichi is crooked and big and beautiful. He throws his arms around Daichi’s neck. When they pull away Daichi takes one last glimpse at Tooru in this small room, traces the slope of Tooru’s nose with his look before catching his eyes. 

“Like a touch,” Tooru whispers.

Daichi smiles, reaches out, and begins putting strands of Tooru’s hair back in place. Tooru ducks away with a squawk. “Are you going to go to dinner looking like you just got fixed?”

“Ack, fix it!” Tooru wails, his hands fluttering around his head like butterflies, and Daichi laughs. 

“I thought I already did.”

Tooru points a finger at Daichi. “You are terrible, Daichi Sawamura!”

"An absolute menace," Daichi agrees amiably. Tooru sniffs. He opens the door and Daichi follows him down the stairs once he has locked the room. Their fingers brush every once in awhile, but they don't link hands again.

***

After that day in the attic, Daichi and Tooru become practically inseparable. Nothing changes much—they don’t sit next to each other in public, keeping careful distance so no one can suspect what they do with each other, and their eyes never linger a questioning length, but where you find one, the other isn’t far behind.

They don’t meet up in the attic more than once a week, and more often than not it falls to two weeks, sometimes longer, between their trysts. Daichi has seen Tooru in a lot of ways at this point, but instead of sating his appetite, it makes him more voracious. He wants to spend hours mapping everything about Tooru, but instead he makes due with the fleeting time they snatch between school, athletics, and outings.

"What are your plans, after school?" Daichi asks Tooru one Saturday. It is snowing softly outside, the first heavy snow of the season, making the room a dreamy gray. It has become cold enough that they have brought blankets up to alleviate the chill, but regardless of the blankets, Tooru is always curled around Daichi, even on days they don't mess around.

Today is no exception. Tooru has a leg tucked under both of Daichi's, his arm underneath the curve of Daichi's back. His stomach is against Daichi's side and his perennially cold nose is pressed against Daichi's shoulder.

"I applied to MIT," Tooru says, voice muffled. "And Brown. There are some scholarship opportunities to play basketball. But I don't know. I haven't really thought about it too much."

Daichi hums. He knows Tooru is hedging around the question by the airy tone in his voice and the lack of concrete answers. It makes him nervous. Daichi has no idea what he wants to do, but he doesn't think he wants to go to college, at least, not right away. But every time he tries to make a decision for his life outside of school, his thoughts always tread back to Tooru. He thinks he would make plans around Tooru's, if Tooru wanted him to.

He doesn't think Tooru would make plans around him, and he doesn't know how he feels about that. He thinks maybe that's why Tooru isn't answering properly.

Daichi shifts, wrapping both of his arms around Tooru, pulling him tightly to his chest. Tooru laughs softly, lifting his head to give him a soft, lingering kiss. "I should be studying, but here we are."

"Here we are," Daichi repeats. He kisses Tooru's cheek, his ear, the juncture where his jaw meets his neck. He feels Tooru's lips on his shoulder. They should talk about the future, should definitely talk about this feeling blooming between the two of them. Instead, Daichi tries to convey to Tooru exactly how he feels with his lips and his hands.

"I love here," Daichi whispers, and Tooru's eyes crinkle with his smile. Daichi really means, _I love you_ , but he doesn't think he will ever be brave enough to say it out loud.

**April 1953**

Daichi finds himself standing outside of the recruitment office a half hour before they close. Koushi had had a date, and Tooru had said he would meet Daichi at the movie theater, leaving Daichi with an unusual amount of alone time. It had been enough time for him to make the decision. Just to see. Just to make sure the path was open if he wanted it to be.

It almost feels like a betrayal, stepping into the sparse office. A man in uniform glances up. "I'm just here for information," Daichi says before he can start any sort of spiel about how wonderful he is for deciding to serve his country.

He hides the papers in his inner coat pocket, so Tooru won't find them. Daichi doesn't know why he is keeping this secret from Tooru, but every time he thinks about saying something out loud, of asking Tooru his thoughts, he feels his stomach tighten, not unlike the way it does when he and Tooru are doing something new together. 

"Maybe when we graduate we'll come back," Tooru says after their movie, fingers brushing against Daichi's just slightly, an acknowledgement, before dropping. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Daichi looks back at the theater. He thinks about all the things he and Tooru shared there, from Tooru's very first confession of his love of movies, to the first time Daichi had had the courage to hold Tooru's hand in his, all the way to their first kiss behind the theater, and all the quiet conversations in between that opened them up to each other in such deep ways. If it weren't for that movie theater, Daichi would not be standing next to this amazing boy.

The papers in his pocket burn against his heart. He shifts his jacket, as if that will alleviate the guilt. "It would be nice to see what this place is like in five or ten years."

Tooru nods his agreement. They don't strike up a conversation again until they say goodbye on the second floor landing.

**May 1953**

One day about three weeks before graduation they’re sitting in their attic, wrapped in a blanket, rain beating a steady rhythm on the windowpane, when Tooru says, “I’m really doing it. Going to Hollywood. I leave three days after graduation.”

Daichi takes a slow, steady breath. He knew, hypothetically, that these moments would disappear. That eventually they would grow up, graduate, and have to decide whether this relationship was worth pursuing in the real world, outside of this cocoon of security.

Apparently, Tooru had already made the decision for them. 

“I...Wow,” Daichi says, not sure what this tightening feeling is in his chest, so close to the pleasure he feels with Tooru, but just different enough to scare him.

“You didn’t think I could do it?” Tooru asks, pulling away from where he has propped himself on Daichi’s shoulder to sit up. His gaze is biting, cold as the wet windowpane above them. Daichi knows this look, has seen it when Tooru makes a winning basketball shot after coming back from behind, or when a teacher tries to argue with him over an essay assignment. He doesn’t always win the argument, but he sure puts up a hell of a fight. Tooru has never looked at Daichi like this. 

Daichi takes another breath, this time to organize his words. He knows whatever he says now is going to define their relationship for the rest of the school year, if not the rest of their friendship. However long that becomes. 

The feeling in Daichi's chest is coiling tight, though, and slowly he realizes this is more than fear or anxiety. He’s mad, and hurt, because he's tried to talk about this and Tooru has never said anything. “Of course I did,” Daichi says, also sitting up. “I just...You never told me you were really going, is all.”

Tooru sets his jaw. “Sure I did. The first conversation we ever had outside this school, I told you I would be in the movies.”

“That’s different!” Daichi says. He can’t help the rise in his voice. “You talked about going to school in Massachusetts or Rhode Island! California is clear across the country! I can’t—”

Daichi stops. He doesn't know what he was going to say, but he knows anything along the lines of _I can't follow you to California just like that_ would not go down well. Tooru shrugs. His icy glare has fallen into an expression of diffidence. Daichi doesn’t know how much more tension his body can hold. “Sorry,” Tooru says. “I talked to my sister, she has some things lined up for me. You can come with, though. They need mechanics there just as much as here.”

The coil inside Daichi snaps. He knows what Tooru is doing, knows this is his way of offering Daichi a place by his side without actually talking about the real implications. But Daichi can’t stand the condescension, the feeling that Tooru wants Daichi as a second thought in his life plan instead of actually with him, or that he hadn't cared enough to set aside his fear to talk this over with Daichi. “I enlisted in the army.”

The surprise that widens Tooru’s eyes is almost satisfying, except Daichi isn’t lying, which just makes him sick to his stomach. He had kept this from Tooru, just as much as Tooru kept his California dream from Daichi. What would have happened, if he had been upfront in the first place?

Tooru laughs. It is an ugly, stinging sound, like rubbing sandpaper on skin. “After all that talk of uncertainty, all those back and forth moments, you decided to up and enlist, just like that? Please. Come up with a better story.”

“I leave July 17,” Daichi says. “What’s wrong with wanting to serve my country?” 

They stare at each other. Tooru’s disdainful, haughty mask is dropping into something similar to panic, but Tooru Oikawa never panics. Daichi can hardly make out his face in the darkness, and it is only getting darker as the sun sets and clouds overtake the sky.

Tooru’s brittle laugh breaks the silence. It is the sound of cracking ice. “Do you think they would want you if they knew who you really were? What you and I have done together?”

There it is. The reason Daichi has waited to tell Tooru about this. He knew Tooru would be cruel, and he didn’t want to be cruel back. 

But the words come out effortlessly, soft as a caress. “Are you going to be the one to tell them? Besides, we’re just boys at school, figuring ourselves out. Maybe it was all a giant mistake. That’s what you’ll say when they ask you, isn't it?”

They lock eyes for an eternity, the words a stranglehold on their conversation. Eventually, Tooru stands up, just a black, solid mass with no real defining features. He slips his shoes back on without looking at Daichi, straightens his clothes and his hair, and throws the key on the table before shutting the door behind him.

Daichi closes his eyes, braces his hands on the blanket underneath him. He had said the worst possible thing. How could he be so stupid?

He hears the night bell toll. He is going to get caught out of his room, but he doesn’t really care. He’ll charm his way out of punishment, like he had watched Tooru do numerous times. It’s all about saying the right things with the right expressions.

Just like making sure your sometimes-lover never wants to speak with you again. 

Daichi sighs. He folds the blanket and hides it in their usual spot, although he’s sure no one else is coming back here. He stares around at the dark lumps of furniture around him, trying to feel the warmth, remember the happiness, he usually felt here.

He sees Tooru, the way he did that first time, framed in the window in his varsity jacket. It just makes his chest feel hollow.

He shuts the door, makes sure the lock clicks behind him. He doesn’t think it matters much now, whether or not their secret room is discovered. They have no more use for it anymore. 

***

Koushi watches Daichi warily as he ties his tie in the mirror on graduation morning. “You look like you’re going to a funeral,” he announces.

He is, in a sense. The end of their school careers, the death of most of their friendships.

The last nail in the coffin that was his and Tooru’s relationship. 

All Daichi has to do is get through the day, and then he can put all of this behind him as childhood fancy. He’ll work with his father for the few weeks he has until basic training begins and he can focus on that, forget any of this ever happened.

Koushi nudges Daichi’s side, joining him in the mirror. “You know. You can always talk to me. I’ll go beat him up.”

Daichi laughs, thinking about Tooru and Koushi brawling. No offense to Tooru, but Daichi’s money is on Koushi. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. We’re celebrating today!”

“Then act like we’re celebrating,” Koushi retorts. “Listen, Daichi, you can’t be hung up on him forever. Right now it feels like the end of the world, but that's because it’s your first relationship. Believe me, after three or four you’ll get used to it.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Daichi says. Koushi gives an angelic smile in the mirror that Daichi knows is anything but heavenly. He wonders if he is attracted to particularly problematic people. 

It is a beautiful day, and they are cooped up in the gymnasium for what feels like an eternity, listening to how they will go make something of themselves in the world, that the relationships forged here could set them up for success if they use them wisely. Daichi can see the back of Tooru's head just a row ahead of him, close enough that he could reach out and touch him.

He clenches his hands into fists to force them still. They rarely, if ever, talk now. And if they do, Tooru's perfect, symmetrical smile is always in place, as if their argument never happened, as if _nothing_ between them had happened. So Daichi had avoided him at all costs, because he would rather keep pointlessly hoping that what he and Tooru shared was something deep, and not something for Tooru to pass his time with.

When the ceremony finally concludes, Daichi takes Koushi over to his family, because his mother loves Koushi and would pout if he didn't. After a few idle minutes of chitchat, Koushi tells Daichi's parents that he knows a great place in town to eat, and why don't they celebrate there before heading on their way?

Koushi leaves to tell his parents the new plan. As Daichi stands and waits for his return, his mother turns to him. "You had another close friend, right? The one you talked to over the summer. Tooru, did you say his name was?"

Daichi's already battered heart sinks further. "You know, he's really busy, I said goodbye to him before this."

It's not really a lie, and that makes it worse. He gives his mother a weak grin and turns to look somewhere, anywhere else.

He picks the worst place to look, because big brown eyes meet Daichi's across the lawn. Tooru's perfect smile falls off of his face, uncertainty taking its place. He raises a hand toward Daichi, starts to hook it as if gesturing Daichi over, before he pauses. Before Daichi can do anything he regrets he nods to Tooru in greeting before turning away.

“Let’s get out of here,” Koushi says as he comes back to Daichi, parents in tow.

“Sure,” Daichi says. He tries to forget the crestfallen expression on Tooru’s face when he had turned away from him, but it burns like a brand in his memory throughout the rest of their celebrations.

***

Three days later, Daichi almost, almost calls Tooru to tell him good luck, to ask if he can have an address to write to. He remembers Tooru's expression when he told him he was leaving, cold and severe, a complete contrast to his usual shyness or vulnerability when asking to try something new together.

In the end, he doesn't call.

***

**December 1962**

Surprisingly, Daichi enjoys the army. He likes the structure of the days, the adrenaline that danger brings, the intense bonds that form with teamwork, not unlike his football days in high school. In no time at all, five years have passed, then seven, and before he knows it, he has given almost ten years of his life to the army, when he had originally thought he would be out of there in five.

He may have just kept going forever, if it weren't for the movie theater.

He tends to avoid them when the guys go out, not because of his history (he tells himself), but because he has reverted back to the fact that he doesn't particularly care about them. All of his knowledge surrounding films came from Tooru, and he'd rather not think of those times in his life.

But one of his closer companions insists _because it's new, and apparently there's a new lead who is fabulous, and you never come_ so Daichi finds himself in a nice theater in France, staring at a familiar blank screen in a familiar red plush seat. He tries not to let his thoughts stray down paths that lead to other moments in a different theater. He has come to terms with his broken relationship. It's time to let it go.

"Everything okay, Sawamura?"

Daichi blinks and turns to James, the one who'd dragged him out here in the first place. "Oh. Yes, sorry. I have a lot on my mind."

James sighs and sits back in his seat. "You're really thinking about leaving, huh?"

Daichi nods.

"Well, you gotta do what you gotta do," he says. "I'm just glad I dragged you out to have fun. You sure are stubborn when you want to be."

Before Daichi can answer, the lights dim. He wonders if he can fall asleep and not get caught. He misses the credits of the movie because he has to stop a popcorn fight that's broken out between three of his party. When he finally settles everyone down, he knows he can't leave these guys to watch themselves, so he resigns himself to watching the movie.

He can quite honestly say he is shocked when he turns his attention back to the screen, only to see the one person he had been trying so hard to forget talking to a pretty girl outside of a big house.

Daichi stares. Years of repressed emotions that have been bricked up in his memory break through like sunlight in storm clouds. That is Tooru, there is no doubt about it. He is taller, his face more refined, his hair slightly shorter, but that beautiful, fake smile has been tempered into a radiant, secretive thing that Daichi yearns to see in person, and then watch it fall into the natural crooked one he loves so much. 

He doesn’t remember anything about the film. Every time Tooru is on screen his eyes are instantly drawn to him, like a moth to a candle. 

“Earth to Sawamura,” James says, waving a hand in front of his eyes. Daichi blinks. He hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. “Ah, you’re back! Did you like it? It’s been awhile since we’ve got to catch a flick. That young lead. He sure was great, wasn’t he?”

“I know him,” Daichi hears himself say.

“No way! Are you pulling my leg? Hey! Sawamura said he knew the lead actor! What was his name? It’s Japanese, like yours, yeah?”

“Tooru Oikawa,” Daichi says. The name elicits memories Daichi hasn’t thought about since he had been deployed the first time, almost ten years ago. Shouting Tooru’s name on a volleyball court to signal he was open, saying it in exasperation when he says something ridiculous or off color, breathing it in their private attic room when they lay together with nothing between them. "We went to school together."

 _We used to be so much more to each other_ , Daichi wants to say, but he doesn't.

After seeing Tooru, Daichi feels that restless from long ago returning, like he should be running toward something but isn't. The military used to be enough, but now he wonders if this has all been a way for Daichi to bury his problems miles away from himself, so he wouldn't have to think about them. 

He comes to the decision relatively quickly. He kicks himself for the fact that Tooru was the one to get him to understand what he has been doing for at least the last three years, and probably longer than that.

He knows it's time to go home.

**February 1963**

Daichi’s chest is tight in anticipation as he walks into the airport. Sure, he had come back from deployments in the past, but knowing this is the last time clogs his throat with feelings he had not anticipated. He asked his mother to keep his homecoming as quiet as possible, but in a town as tight-knit as Cedar Bluffs, that is highly unlikely. He is ready, though, to start on his next life adventure. He’s had enough of running from his past. 

He is surprised to see that it is, indeed, just his mother and father at the airport. He waves, blinks back tears as his mother wipes her eyes, and quickens his steps. He drops his bags when he is in arms reach and pulls his mother into a fierce hug. 

“Oh baby, you’re so big!”

Daichi laughs. “I don’t look that much different from a year ago.”

He doesn’t look different, but the feeling is definitely not the same as usual. This feels more like his departures, anticipation with an underpinning sense of loss. He doesn't really know who he is outside of military life, and the idea of discovering himself is slightly terrifying.

"I know you said you didn't want to do anything," his mother says as his father pulls out of the parking lot, "but I think it would be nice to have a small celebration tomorrow, just something for people to come say congratulations."

Daichi sighs. He is happy he has at least one day to prepare himself. "Sounds good, Mom."

The rest of the car ride is filled with his mother's chatter, catching Daichi up with what she hadn't included in his letters, which is quite a bit. "Koushi's getting married! She's a sweet girl, a little shy, but they look so happy together."

Daichi doesn't acknowledge the unspoken question of when he's going to find a girl to settle down with. If nothing else, his military service has granted him a way out of uncomfortable personal questions. He wonders how long he will be able to use that as an excuse. "Yeah, he wrote me. Sent me a picture."

Daichi has learned that if he acts oblivious to the unspoken question, it goes over better than if he acts like he is sidestepping it. His mother continues onto a different topic. His father meets his eye in the rearview mirror, a questioning glance, before turning back to the road. Daichi looks back out the window.

When they get home, Daichi drops his baggage off in his old bedroom. Everything seems strangely small, the room, his bed, even his house, the town. As if he doesn't fit into this life anymore. 

He knows it is hard to transition back into civilian life. He has talked to old friends who have left the service, talked to his father about it once or twice. His mother wants to celebrate his return, and he shouldn't bring the mood down by deciding he doesn't belong here after ten minutes of studying his room.

A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts. He glances out the window to see Koushi on the doorstep. Daichi swears under his breath, because he is sure this is something his mother had told him was going to happen, and he had just not been paying attention.

He shakes his shoulders to physically throw off whatever mood is stealing over him. Koushi is one of his best friends. At the very least, he can spend lunch with him.

Koushi's face brightens when he sees Daichi coming down the stairs. "Hey! Sorry, I wish I had more time, but I have a business meeting tomorrow morning that I have to get back to."

"It's fine. Good to see you." Daichi holds out a hand to shake, which Koushi quirks his eyebrows at but finally clasps in his own. "Do you think my parents will let me out of the house for long enough to get lunch?"

"Oh, hush, of course we will," his mother says. "Good to see you, Koushi. Take care of my Daichi for me."

"Always, Mrs. S." Koushi shakes his keys before opening the door. "I'll be back next week for a little longer. I want you to meet Hitoka."

"What took you so long to get married, anyway? Your practically a spinster."

Koushi sniffs. "First of all, spinsters are ladies. Second of all, I really wanted to make sure I found the right one. And she is. I don't see _you_ getting married anytime soon."

Daichi stays quiet. He had so successfully pushed thoughts of Tooru, and by extension his dating life, to the side for so long. Remembering that glimpse of Tooru on a big screen feels like he has reopened an old wound, one that had finally scarred over.

"You never know what's going to happen, am I right?" Koushi says, waving his hand in the air. "Don't answer that, I know I am."

That startles a laugh out of Daichi. Koushi grins, and for the first time Daichi realizes that Koushi has felt just as uncomfortable as him, and instead of feeling offended by it, Daichi just feels relieved. "I missed you, Koushi."

Koushi rolls his eyes. "Don't start that sentimental bullshit," he reprimands before saying, "I missed you too."

Daichi thinks maybe he isn't going to regret his decision to retire for long.

***

He spends the rest of the day with family. He has two aunts and three cousins with young families that live within an hour of the house, so his mother has invited them over for dinner. Daichi plays with his small cousins for most of the day. He feels more comfortable around them than around the adults, with their strange silences and hesitant questions.

He forces himself to stay and socialize until the almost everyone has gone, then he volunteers to go to the grocery store when his mother mentions she is out of eggs and doesn't have anything for breakfast. He hugs his father, kisses his mother on the cheek, tells them he won't freeze to death, as the weather is unnaturally warm for February, and lets out a deep sigh of relief to be out in the dark, quiet nighttime.

He had missed home, really. He loves seeing the quaint neighborhood block with big oak trees in the front yard even if they don't have leaves right now, likes the orange glow of the streetlights shimmering off the dark streets and frosty grass. He meanders down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets. He knows it will take some getting used to, getting back to his real life, but still. There is a general sense of emptiness Daichi had felt in the army that still isn't filled.

He knows what it probably is, and he doesn't know if it will ever go away. Not any time soon. He sighs, his happy reflection taking its usual turn. Couldn't he just have one free day from Tooru Oikawa and the ghost of their relationship?

Daichi reaches the grocery store. He is in and out relatively fast, only stopped by three people. He bats away the question of his relationship status with a charming smile and a funny one liner he doesn't remember.

When he finally disentangles himself from the last of his parent's acquaintances, he sees a flashy new Pontiac in the parking stall directly in front of the door. He admires the car from a distance for a few moments before realizing there's still someone inside. He contemplates going over and complimenting them on it, but decides he doesn't want to engage in another conversation today.

He is about to turn away when the door to the car opens and out steps a tall figure with long limbs, his stray brown curls glowing softly in the light of the streetlamp above him. He rests a long, pale hand on the on the top of the roof, the other curling around the top of the door frame. Daichi stares, forgetting to breathe. He wonders if he had wished this hallucination into existence with the sheer longing in his head.

"That gaze sure hasn't changed," Tooru says, bringing Daichi solidly back to earth. And then Tooru offers a small crooked smile.

"Too—" Daichi says, his voice cracking. He stops, catches his breath, and tries again. "Tooru?"

"Hi, Daichi," he says. They stare at each other. Daichi swallows, trying to fit his thoughts into words, but they don't order themselves properly. "Do you want to take a drive?"

The words are flippant, dismissive, but Daichi has always had the read on Tooru. He notices the way Tooru's hands have gripped a little tightly around the doorframe, the way his crooked smile has evened into a pretty, perfect one. The same one he saw Tooru use in that film.

"Yeah, okay," Daichi says, his voice still unsteady. He walks over, opens the passenger door, and slides in.

Tooru hops in on his side. He fumbles ever so slightly turning the key in the ignition, but Daichi doesn't point out the flaw. He thinks if he had offered Tooru a ride in his vehicle after all these years he would be lucky to even get the key into its slot, much less drive smoothly out of the parking spot and onto the small, country road that leads up to the bluff above town.

The first fifteen minutes or so of the drive is quiet, the only sound soft music from the radio. Daichi admires the interior of the vehicle. "This is a nice car," he says, turning to Tooru. Tooru shifts his attention to Daichi for a moment. He looks older, but his skin is the same porcelain pale as before, his hair shorter but still perfectly coifed and curled.

Tooru laughs. "Ah, you and your cars. My parents let me borrow it for the weekend. Dad bought it as soon as he saw it, he liked it so much."

It is as if the last ten years have been a long dream, and Daichi has woken up back in his real life here, next to Tooru. He laughs softly. “Are you staying somewhere close overnight, then?"

Tooru shrugs, which Daichi interprets as no. "It's only a three hour drive back to my parents, and if I'm too tired I'm sure Koushi will let me spend the night. At least, as long as this goes well."

Tooru glances over at Daichi. For the first time, Daichi sees the unguarded emotions that Tooru is actually feeling--apprehension, nervousness, and underneath it all, resignation. As if Tooru has been running from something that has now caught him and he knows there is no way to escape. Daichi knows that feeling all too well.

He has so many things he wants to say, so many questions about why Tooru is here, but instead he asks, "Do you and Koushi...stay in contact?"

Tooru shakes his head. "I'm sure he didn't tell you. Leave it up to me to bear my soul to you, of course. But here's what happened. I woke up one morning five years ago with the alarming realization that I didn't know where you were. And not just that, but I didn't know whether you were even _alive_. You could have been wounded, killed, missing in action, and I wouldn't know any better."

Tooru pulls off to the side of the road. They follow a small trail about two hundred feet out before Tooru kills the engine, leaving them in mostly silence. Tooru takes a deep breath. Daichi watches his fingers run along the smooth steering wheel as he braces himself for whatever is about to be said.

"So I jumped out of bed. I went to the phone and got Koushi's number, and then I just called. Over and over until he finally picked up. It was six thirty in the morning, by the way. For him, not for me. And I just asked. How you were, where you were. Had a breakdown right there on the phone to an almost complete stranger, my pride completely shattered across the floor. Probably the only reason he told me anything about you.

"It just became a thing after that. Every once in awhile, Koushi would let me know a little bit of news about you, and I agonized over sending you a letter, but in the end I thought you didn't need a distraction from me. Now I see it was most likely another excuse. When Koushi told me you were coming home, I just...I knew. I knew I had to try, and if you hated me, well then, at least I couldn't hate myself for trying. I hate myself for so many other things, I couldn't add being a coward to the list."

The car has finally settled, leaving the darkness silent. Daichi can only see Tooru by the stubborn moonlight that has fought its way through the foliage above them, hollowing his cheekbones and eye sockets. Another way to be seen.

"I saw you, you know," Daichi finally says. Tooru blinks, confused. Daichi looks away, out the car windshield to the dark clumps of trees surrounding them. "When I was abroad. We went to the movies, the guys and I. And there you were, so transcendent. I’ll admit, I can’t tell you if the movie was good, I was too distracted by your face. I got to brag about you after that. They were so jealous that I knew you personally. Can you imagine what they would have said if they had actually known our history together?"

Daichi chuckles. He glances over at Tooru, who has gone rigid with attention. "I don't regret it. Leaving. Serving my country. But I do regret not talking to you for ten years because of a rough patch in the road. Not giving you a proper chance to support my decision, and to tell you that I support yours."

Tooru shrugs. He slumps back against the car door, still facing Daichi. He pulls out a cigarette, cracks the window open, and lights it. Daichi follows the orange glow to Tooru's lips, watches them curl around the smoke that escapes on Tooru's exhale. He offers the cigarette to Daichi, who takes a short drag before handing it back.

"Koushi warned me before, if I ever broke your heart, that he would make my life hell. I am not surprised he never told you about me. No one ever knows if I'm going to do what I say, or run as far away from my problem as I can. Not even me."

Daichi waves away Tooru's second offer of a drag. "Yes, you do run away, because that is your defense mechanism. Never let them see you care, right? Never get attached?"

Tooru points lazily at Daichi with his perfect grin. Daichi hates it. "If you aren't attached, nothing can hurt you."

Daichi presses his lips together, imagining for just a moment what it would be like to live in a place as isolated as that. He cannot fathom not wanting to form those connections, especially with Tooru.

"I knew it all back then," Daichi says softly, reaching his arm across the seat. Tooru eyes it warily, as if Daichi would reach out and grab him at any moment. "I knew who you were back then, but I didn't know how to navigate it. So instead of trying, I got hurt, and I let you say those things, and I let you go. Instead, I should have told you that you could go to Hollywood, that one day I would love to follow you. That I was going to the army, but I would love to hear about your new, adventurous life. I should have forced us to be friends, even if I had to drag your dead weight behind me."

Tooru laughs. In the moonlight his skin is waxy, slightly shimmering. Daichi leans closer, presses a finger to Tooru's wrist bone. Tooru looks back at Daichi. He watches Tooru’s Adam’s apple bob, and notices the wet glisten in his eyes. Tooru turns his hand, links their fingers together. Daichi releases his breath, tightens his grip.

“Do you know this song?” Tooru asks suddenly. He reaches over to twist the volume dial up. Elvis Presley’s voice croons out of the speakers. “From the movie Blue Hawaii. Mr. Presley should probably stick to singing, he's pretty terrible at acting. But this song. God. Can’t help falling in love with you is right.”

Daichi stares at Tooru, who has started humming the song, singing a few words here and there. He has a pretty tenor, more refined than it was in high school. He catches Daichi’s eyes, and his crooked smile plays on his lips. “You heard me right. I love you. I have since you brought me those chocolates, and I tried to stop but I can’t. I hope...I hope that’s okay, but I understand if it’s not. I just needed to tell you.”

Daichi reaches out and cups Tooru’s face in his free hand. Tooru keeps speaking. “I couldn’t help it. You make it so easy to fall in love with you.”

With that Daichi leans over and kisses Tooru. Tooru untangles their hands, drapes his wrists on Daichi’s shoulders, bridging the gap between them. This feeling is easier than coming home. Daichi relaxes for the first time that day, allows Tooru to pull himself closer.

“Do you want to know the sappiest part of this whole situation?” Tooru whispers when they finally break away, slightly breathless.

“There’s more?” Daichi asks.

Tooru sniffs. “Do you know me at all? Anyway.” Tooru rummages in a bag on the floor. He pulls out a box, gaudy and heart shaped.

“No,” Daichi says. Tooru’s eyes are bright, earnest as he holds out the chocolate. “It’s not even Valentine’s Day anymore!”

“I know, they were on sale! But what better way than to bring it back where it all started. A box of Valentine chocolate.”

Daichi chuckles as he takes the box from Tooru’s fingers. “I love you, too,” Daichi says. A laugh bubbles from Tooru’s chest and he covers his mouth with his hands. “I need to take care of some things here before I go to California. At least, I assume that’s home for you.”

Tooru nods. “And you don’t have to go stay with Koushi. Apparently, there's a party in my honor tomorrow night. Come sleep at my place, my parents will be delighted. My mother used to ask about you all the time; she'll die when I introduce you.”

“I am pretty charming,” Tooru says, nose up in the air as he puts the key in the ignition.

Daichi laughs again. As they wind back down into town, the hum of the radio the only sound this time, everything feels still. There is still a lot to figure out, a lot of talking that hasn't happened that needs to between the two of them. Daichi turns, watches the flashing periodic streetlights turn Tooru’s face shades of orange, yellow, white. One thing has stayed the same; he still wants to discover Tooru in every light imaginable.

He can’t wait to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos always welcome!
> 
> My [tumblr](https://twirlergirl1206.tumblr.com/) if you're interested!


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